Page 65 of Play Dirty
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking in the end. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
He’s apologizing for things that aren’t even his fault. I don’t need him to say it… I just need him to stay. “I don’t want to leave, but I deserve someone who can look at me.” I breathe, closing the space between us. I feel like the greatest traitor for wanting him as much as I do. For a moment, I enjoy the fact that he’s mine to claim and nota secret kept in the darkest part of my heart. Still, the small victory tastes bitter and weighs heavily in my heart.
Before I can say another word, his rough hand brushes against the softness of my cheek. The contact sends sparks of electricity through me, and then our lips crash together like the storm outside. It’s not sweet. It’s not gentle. It’s aching and furious. Full of things we are too broken to say. His tongue slips into my mouth, brushing slowly against mine as both of his hands cup my face.
Lifting me off the ground, my legs wrap around his waist, my back slams against the lockers, causing them to clang. I gasp into his mouth, and he swallows the sound. His hands move slowly, touching every part of me, before disappearing underneath my shirt. I can feel the tremble in his fingers as they continue to explore.
I wrap my legs tighter around him, pulling him closer. Enjoying the proximity. We’re soaked from the rain and shivering from the cold inside the locker room, still wearing our wet clothes, but we don’t care. We just kiss and explore one another. Then he pulls away, his lips are swollen, and his eyes are hooded.
“Tell me you want this, Blondie.” He says, pressing his forehead against mine.
I don’t hesitate as I answer. “I want this.”
That’s all the permission he needs. With one hand holding me up, his other pulls up my skirt, pushing my panties to the side while I help him free his erection from behind the confines of his mesh shorts.
My breath catches in my throat as he lines himself up. It’s really happening. We both hiss as the head of his cock presses against me. “We can stop if you want.” He says through clenched teeth.
Stop.
I could laugh, but instead, I use the heel of my foot to pull him into me. My back arches against the cool metal as my pussy swallows him. His mouth finds my neck, and he softly bites into the skin as he moves inside me.
We move in sync, like our bodies were always meant to collide in this violent and perfect way. I should feel shame, he was with June, but this just feels right. My fingers dig into his wet shoulders, my lips parting as he drives into me over and over. The sound of skin against skin echoes off the tiles.
His mouth moves up my neck, finding my lips and devouring each sinful sound he draws out of me, before he pulls away, kissing the corner of my lips. “I couldn’t touch her.” He pants against my mouth. I wish he wouldn’t talk about her now; tears prick the corners of my eyes. “I tried…. I tried so hard to forget you. To want anything but this.” He pushes into me harshly, claiming every inch of me. “But it’s always been you, Blondie. You,” he breathes.
His words break something inside me, and he fucks me while I unravel completely. Tears of joy and shame mix along with the sweat and rain that still cling to our skin. I cry as we kiss, pulling him deeper. It’s fucking messy. Desperate and drenched in guilt and want. But it’s ours. It’s everything we've been holding back since the day we met.
Mine.
The thought sends me toppling over the edge, causing me to shatter around him. My body trembles from the sheer intensity as I come with a strangled cry. He follows a moment later, groaning my name as he buries himself to the hilt, still kissing me like it’s the only way he could possibly survive. We remain connected, looking in each other's eyes, just as a loud buzzing breaks the moment.
We both look down at the phone sitting on the ground.
The Pulse Blog
My entire body goes cold. Nico's body tenses against me before pulling out of me and helping me to the ground. The room spins, and the silence between us this time isn’t sexual or sacred. It’s dread.
Asher is dead.
And somehow… I feel this is just the beginning.
Chapter Twenty - Six
Nico
Iroll the tension from my neck, my hand resting on the cool surface of the locker. It’s game day, our first game of the season, and all I can think about is Shiloh. The storm outside has long since stopped, but not the one waging inside me. Today, we are up against Costa Mar; somehow, that makes the crowd louder. As if Asher Santorellini wasn’t just found dead a couple of days ago.
The memory of that night slams into my head like a sledgehammer, bulldozing the barrier, spilling into me. The way her eyes watered as she looked at me as if I had something to hide.
I scoff at the memory as she rushed past me. Ironically, this time it wasn’t me who left, but her.
My hands twitch to reach for her; even now, they ache to touch her. To feel the softness of her curves beneath my rough skin, but whatever happened that night, she clearly regrets now. “Okay, boys,” Jensen's voice is low and serious. I turn to see him still sporting the bruises from that night.
Glasses hide the ugly black eyes beneath them. “This is the first game, tension will be high on that field. After all, they lost their captain, but don’t count them out. Because of this, they will play harder. Dirtier. You know the motto: Head in the game. Cleats on the ground,” he pauses his hand reaching out for our team huddle. “Play dirty.”
With a roll of my eyes, I turn my body to face my team. Ezra smiles as his hand moves over ours. “Let’s go, SIRENS!” He shouts over the sounds of cleats stomping the ground. The locker room is filled with testosterone and adrenaline, shouting, we lift our hands — shaking the tension from our limbs.
“PLAY DIRTY, SIRENS! PLAY TO WIN!” Ezra chimes in, slapping our backs as we head out the door.
